What Happens in Vegas?

Hey Loves! I’m still in Vegas! (Duh, no one only goes for one day!) So I asked Ty from Arkansassy to give us all some Vegas tips! Seriously ladies, I took note of all these tips! Alright, I gotta get back to this shit show bachelorette party!

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Y’all have all heard it: what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

Well. That may have worked for the Frank and Sammy, but since the arrival of Facebook and Google, that’s pretty much out the window.

What happens in Vegas will end up on your Facebook wall.

Mark that one now.

I don’t really consider myself to be a Vegas pro. I’ve been three times now. One was for a gymnastics meet when I was twelve, so there really isn’t any Vegas wisdom coming out of that trip, except to say that the New York New York roller coaster is awesome and if you see a Cirque du Soleil show, you’ll want to run away and join the circus.

The other two, though, were on bachelorette parties, and I’m gonna go ahead and give y’all my helpful nuggets of wisdom for a Vegas adventure.

one. Drink on the plane out to pre-game, but don’t freshman-style NYE-it before you even land.

When I went in 2009, we had a group of four of us that flew out of Kansas City because the flight was dirt cheap: me, the bride (Amber), the bride’s sister (Meagan), and another bridesmaid (Sarah). Our flight was delayed for almost four hours.

So what do we do? Find the Taquiera.

It was here that we encountered both a bachelor party and an old man festival that were on our flight. Sarah, a genius in her own right, had the brilliant plan to buy a deck of cards and play a few drinking games.

I really don’t know how they let us on the plane.

Or how, once on the plane, we didn’t get air-marshalled.

It didn’t help that the old man festival was comprised of a bunch of Kansas City lawyers who went on a boys’ trip every year. Who had like, 1,397 free drink tickets for Southwest. Uncle Rick, as he was known, was a pretty generous guy in that regard.

At one point, the flight attendant gets on the loudspeaker and says, “Could the two ladies dancing in the back please find their seats?” Sarah and I are all, “Wow, what a bunch of idiots” … until we realized it was us. Jammin’ on an iPod.

Then our bride passed out in baggage claim.

I think we’re actually holding each other up in our first group shot.

All I’m sayin’ is that you don’t want to enter Sin City the same way you leave it.

[yeah, it’s blurry. like my memory]

two. You never look as cute whipping your hair at The Bank at 2:00 a.m. as you think you do.

You think you’re a goddess, looking like La Lohan, making cute pouty lips with your hands in the air, and you just don’t.

YOU. DON’T.

My takeaway is this: make sure you get a few good pictures right when you get where you’re going. Otherwise, there won’t be any framers from the trip.

Wouldn’t you rather have a bunch of these:

… than a bunch of these?

I think my point is made.

three. You’re way more likely to be confrontational in the club because you’re a zillion miles from home and stuffed full of Grey Goose courage.

Even with each other.

The last time we went, my friend Jenna kept giving me hate looks for no reason, until I yelled, “Why are you being such a bitch??”

Then we hugged it out and moved on. In a matter of minutes.

On that note, maybe we should do that more often in everyday life, instead of that passive-agressive thing. Lesson learned there.

four. Lay out your pajamas before you go out.

Just trust me. I slept in my suitcase on my first adult trip because I couldn’t find my pajamas in an 80-lb. suitcase at four in the morning and didn’t feel like dealing with it anymore.

Thank goodness I didn’t just take a carry-on. Or else I’d be bent like a little hobbit.

five. If you aren’t a big drinker in normal life, it doesn’t matter. You will still be a rockstar in Vegas.

It’s called Sin City for a reason.

You go out walking the strip to see some landmarks and do some shopping, and before you realize it, you’re wearing a 64 oz. gold plastic bottle on a chain around your neck.

Full of Red Bull and vodka.

Wait, what?

Then you get your eyeliner on and your sequins on and you’re feeling sassy.

And you want all the alcohols.

That’s when it goes downhill.

You still think you are sex-ee dancing like you’re in the Britney “I’m A Slave 4 U” video..

You’re really just a big mess.

Would you do that in your hometown?

OF COURSE NOT.

But things don’t count in Vegas, guys.

six. The flight home will make you very sad.

If you were anything like me, you’ll come in from the last night out at 5:00 a.m and have a 10:00 a.m. flight.

[word to the wise: never schedule a morning flight out]

Then you realize you never got a chili dog from New York New York, and in your still slightly-impaired state, you’ll decide it’s a good idea. Lemme tell you, a beer and a chili dog at eight in the morning can cure all ailments.